Thanks for coming this far.  I don't normally do things like this (see 'Make a Wrist Foundation' in the Commonwealth Times http://www.commonwealthtimes.org/?p=4967).  But here I am.  Don't worry though, no rubber wrist bands will be harmed in the making of this fundraiser.  Themed t-shirts however are a necessity.

 

I don't run in order to raise money (or to even catch the bus for that matter) so I am doing a walk, or a 'march'.  Unfortunately however there will be no Souza tunes and Louis Farrakhan is not calling for a million men.  But we will cover 14 miles in order to raise money for The Royal Marsden, a hospital in South London (England). 

 

There are two hospital sites with this name in the London area, and there are 14 miles between them.  This hospital specializes in the treatment of cancer.  Specifically, it treated the cancer of my would-be-sister-in-law, Joanna Harris, who died at the age of 28, from breast cancer, a week before she was to marry my brother-in-law, Carlos Vielba, about a year and a half ago.

 

Under normal circumstances, I would expect members of the human race to give to charity freely, without coercion of the government or 'the feel-good brigade'.  Under normal circumstances the energy it takes to walk the 14 miles, or 'march', could be better spent on researching possible causes of cancer, constructing new hospitals, or even working a regular job, like waiting tables in one's free time, to get more money to use as donation to groups that find causes of cancer and construct hospitals.  In a country like England even, it (the energy) could be used to petition the government to simply put a larger proportion of money into the NHS, the state health care system, which staffs and runs the hospitals to begin with.  But are we ever in 'normal circumstances'?  (Read No.) 

 

Instead we grow moustaches (especially in the month of November), run circles around our cities, often wearing silly mascot-like costumes, and, yes, wear colourful, rubber, wrist bands, all in the name of charity. 

 

While all this is goofy, the amazing thing is, it works.  So, despite my normal reservations and mockery, I am a part of this funny contemporary movement for the first time in my life.  I am setting aside my critiques and joining the cause.  I'm being a pragmatist:  Humans seem to let go of their cash easier if someone is not simply asking for it (even nicely), but offering to 'do something', expend some energy in some way, or perhaps, even make a sacrifice, like growing a horrible, itchy moustache, even at the risk of looking like--at best--a cop, or, at worst, some 70s porn star or modern-day paedaphile.  Just for the record, I am not growing a moustache at the time of this writing.  Sometimes I do that for free, so it would not be right.  Therefore I'm doing the marching thing. 

 

I decided to do the marching thing when I found out that my mother-in-law was doing the marching thing.  She was going to do it by herself.  Well, she'd have all the other marchers around her, but no friends or family with her at her side.  I don't know the last time she walked 14 miles, or if she ever has (I don't think I have all in one day.  Maybe 10 or so in some Boy Scout hikes years ago.).  So I insisted that I join her to help her through it like Micky helped Rocky during his grueling ordeals.  Unfortunately however we are not preparing by chasing greased chickens in dirty back alleys.   Something about animal rights I think.

 

So I called the Royal Marsden and explained them the situation and said I was joining up.  Too many people already have I was told.  No more room.  Surely the more the merrier you would think but no.  The March has an optimal participatory number to make it most effective apparently and I was one too many.  Or perhaps 8 too many, for, when I told them I was going to show up and march anyway, they said I should just join the 'waiting list' with the other 7 folks hanging round like vultures, watching and waiting for some committed marchers to drop out for whatever reason, snatching their newly emptied and coveted spot.  So I got put on the waiting list like any good NHS patient and my number was--by the Grace of God--called up about a week ago.  So I'm in, officially even.  I don't have to be a march crasher or anything. 

 

Originally I thought I was just going to do it to accompany Mrs Vielba in her 14 miles, but when I was officially put on the books as an official marcher, I was asked to pay my £10 registration fee.  I thought, how ironic that I, the marcher, am going to pay to march 14 miles in a march marched in the name of raising money.  Surely I might as well make my £10 marching fee go further then and use it to spur on others to put their £10 or whatever into the pot as well.  Or, in other words, I don't want to be the only schmoe losing 10 quid. 

 

So here we are.  Help me and the other marchers get Royal Marsden more than just the £10 a head per marcher.  For, while if it were indeed a 'million man march' we'd have £10,000,000, which would be a decent amount even if no non-marchers gave, we have something more like a few hundred marchers which at £10 a head is not all that much for an all day affair of marching.  Agreed?   

 

Now a little word from our sponsor:

 

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In the very words of the Royal Marsden, '...please dig deep and donate now.'